"I felt my anger rising. Mark Thomas was a slimeball. He was about 24, tall and handsome and so full of himself that there wasn't room for anybody or ...nything else. He wasn't fit to lace Richard Greaves' boots. All he was concerned about was how Richard's death affected him.I didn't answer. I just turned and walked back to my office in a daze. I was upset at losing a friend and fuming at the way his death was being looked at as an inconvenience. By the time I sat down the anger had taken over. He looked over at me, with furious eyes, and grabbed me off the floor where I was kneeling, by his feet, and took me to his bedroom. "YOU DO NOT TELL ME WHAT TO DO! YOU ARE A SLAVE. YOU TREAT ME WITH RESPECT DAMN IT!" He yelled at me, the fury clear in his venomous voice. I started balling, mumbling "sorry Master, sorry." under my breath. "Stop crying slave, you are to be punished. Now. Lay down" he said more softly this time. I layed down on the bed, arms and legs spread wide. Master tied me. More

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